Seventy-five percent
by thebusinessofmiseryx
Summary: From fifth year onwards, George and Hermione have had a thing going on. Trials and tribulations throw chaos and love in their way, and while it's a rocky road it may be best for the both of them. Such opposites have to attract, because as George has always said. Unrequited snogging just isn't his thing. EWE? Lemons. George x Hermione


**DISCLAIMER – I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS, ANYTHING RECOGNIZED IS PROBABLY OWNED BY J.K. ROWLING – THIS STORY WILL HAVE SCENES OF A SEXUAL NATURE, NOT FOR THE EASILY OFFENDED BUT IT WILL NOT BE A TOTAL SMUTFEST EITHER. **

Prologue

"Mrs Weasley, why can't we tell Harry that we're spending a week at the burrow? It seems awfully unkind, I'd hate for him to be upset..." Hermione asked, as she levitated her luggage up to the first floor where Ginny's room was located; Mrs Weasley turned round, her fuller figure nearly knocking the young witch's trunk back down the stairs as she quickly whispered to Hermione.

"Dumbledore said not to, for some reason he wants you to stay here for a week until we meet with Sirius. Arthur and I really don't know anything else, and we couldn't disclose it if we did... Sorry." she had a half smile on her face, which was quickly replaced with a full grin.

"Ginny will be so pleased that you're here, I think she's missed you these past couple of days that you've been away" Hermione forced a smile – was there a particular reason that everyone expected Hermione and Ginny to be friends? While Ginny was lovely, but she wasn't always Hermione's cup of tea to hang around with. Make-up, boys and sexual prowess could not be considered as the bookworm's interests, yet Ginny seemed to excel in all areas; and Hermione meant _all_ areas, if Ginny's being caught in a broom cupboard with an older Ravenclaw was anything to go by...

The mousey-haired beauty didn't mean anything by it, but she supposed that while her and Ginny may one day become close, it's not like she'd be the maid of honour in her wedding or the Godmother of her children (or vice versa).

"Hermione, it's so good to see you!" Ginny beamed and ran up to her _friend_? With a huge smile on her face and a hug ready for the girl. Molly stood in the doorway laughing gleefully as the girls became reacquainted and excused herself just in time to miss her youngest child whisper into Hermione's ear

"I did it, with Michael... It was _terrible_..." Hermione's cheeks turned pink, and replacing their mother in the doorway were the mischievous faces of the Weasley twins. She had no idea how, but the sight of the twins always put Hermione on edge. It might be the teensy weensy crush that she had on George – but that was only minor, he annoyed her 90% of the time. Maybe that was part of the appeal...

"Oh Merlin, George... In the past few days, Granger got boobs!" Fred chortled, and elbowed his twin for a reaction. The other twin leant closer to 'inspect' Hermione's new cleavage and nodded.

"Indeed she has! Puberty has struck... Hormones running wild..."

"... Sexual urges setting in and all that."

"I'd be glad to alleviate any urges if you'd like, 'Mione. Better the devil you know!"

"Than the devil you met at the bottom of a fire-whiskey bottle!" Fred finished, just in time to be sent flying into the wall by the bookworm's wand.

Ginny was trying her best not to laugh at the display but it was growing increasingly hard, she knew that George had a crush on Hermione, but she wasn't sure if the flirting was him trying to irritate her or to impress her. Either way, behind the 'anger', she could see Hermione trying not to blush – she was obviously trying to impress someone or she wouldn't have been wearing a push up bra.

"Anyway you three, I have to go meet Michael! I'll see you later, Hermione." the young redhead breezed past the duo in the doorway and left her friend stood right in the lions lair. The Weasley twins moved forward, smirking in a most unsettling manner. Hermione was about to hex them again when she heard George whisper ever so quietly.

"Really though, you do look different. I like it..." and then he left, dragging his twin in tow.

**-x-**

Dressing at the Burrow was always a task and half, Ginny who seemed to wake up amazingly gorgeous always made Hermione feel extra pressure to look good; so in place of scruffy jeans and a t-shirt, Hermione opted for a black high waisted shorts and a red long-sleeved lace top that just showed a hint of her bra-enhanced cleavage. For once, Hermione actually had made an effort with her hair, which was plaited in a stylishly messy fishtail braid which looked lovely next to her light makeup and nude lip-gloss. On her feet, Hermione wore a pair of black converse that her Aunty Louisa had brought her back from her trip to America. Mixing the shabby with the chic somehow worked, and she hoped that George would like it.

"Hermione, you look great!" Ron blurted as his best friend walked into the kitchen for breakfast, every member of the Weasley household turned to see the beauty step in and they all had the same slack-jawed expression on their faces. Except George, who walked in five seconds behind her, kissed her on the cheek and asked her why she felt the need to dress so provocatively when she had already won his heart. Molly Weasley raised her eyebrows at this jokey admission, but you could see the pro/con list going off in her head as Hermione swatted the 'G' half of the twins and dodged the cheek kisses he was trying to lay in her – oblivious to the fact that they were indeed flirting.

"George will you stop being a prat and just sit down?!" the chocolate-eyed beauty snapped, just as he managed to land a kiss on her jaw. Her tone was firm, but anyone could see the smile on her face as she turned away blushing. "You've been ever so annoying this morning!" she added for good measure – but once again the Weasleys shared a look, this one was a 'knowing' look, the kind that made her feel like she was the last to know a juicy secret.

**-x-**

Hermione laid on the grass in the Weasley garden, soaking up the sun and reading a book about Elvish Welfare. The boys and girl, were playing Quidditch whilst Molly prepared another feast and snacks, leaving the bookworm to finally get some peace and quiet... Sort of. The Burrow had a beautiful garden, it wasn't your traditional beauty but a sort of lived in gorgeousness, everything was magical and exciting – except the garden gnomes that had managed to sneak up to the young witch as she read, and somehow placed a very deep bite on her ankle. Hermione yelped as she saw blood trickle down her foot, and she was pretty sure that she was crying – the pain didn't last long though, before she knew it she was being gathered up into the arms of George Weasley and carried into the Burrow's living room, where she was firmly placed onto the floor while he charmed her ankle to stop the blood flow, as she carried on sobbing at the stinging sensation.

"Shh, it's going to be alright. It's just a bite. They hurt like hell but it will be gone by tomorrow..." he lifted his hand and wiped a rogue tear from her face, his other hand squeezing hers to reassure her. Hermione hadn't realized, but all of the other Weasley's were watching this 'moment' from outside the window, but perhaps she was best left in the unknown.

"Thanks, George... It doesn't hurt as much now. How did you know what to do?" she asked, her voice still a bit choked from her previous tears, she didn't want to alarm George but he was still holding her hand; and as far as Hermione could tell, she really liked it.

"Me and Fred are always in scrapes, we have to fix them fast before mum finds out." they both laughed, thinking of the messes and contraptions that the twins often made. It was endearing and infuriating. Such genius being used for things that were so... Unnecessary but yet completely useful. Everyone needed to laugh at some point and they mad it happen.

"I guess you do... Thanks though. I've not been very warm to you this past couple of days and I didn't mean to sound so mean, especially when you came to my rescue. I feel awful"

George grinned at her. "I know it's just because you fancy the pants of me"

Hermione couldn't help but gasp. "And why would you think that?"

"Because I fancy the pants off you, and I'm not into unrequited snogging."

"Is that so?" she asked, slightly bemused. Hermione didn't hear his reply for he had crashed his lips onto hers and began to wind his arms around her waist as the bout of 'snogging' had commenced, with neither of them trying to get any oxygen for at least three minutes.

"You taste like peppermint, 'Mione..." It was a taste that the twin could get used to.

**-x-**

I'm a lazy writer in the sense that without reviews, faves etc I lack the motivation to write. So if you do want to read more, then please let me know.


End file.
